Cigarettes and Broken Hearts
by Lavinia Swire
Summary: She knew she wasn't the only one with a broken heart, and that helped somehow. Written for a challenge on the Highclere Awards forum.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey.**

**Written for mlt's challenge on the Highclere Awards forum. **

* * *

><p>She was crying in the yard again (it was getting to be a habit, but she didn't want to have to deal with Ethel's awkward questions) when she heard someone coming.<p>

Shrinking back into the shadows behind the crates, she saw Branson emerge from the house and lean back against the wall. Ridiculous man, she thought uncharitably, mooning over Lady Sybil as likely as not. Why couldn't she have ten minutes alone to be miserable?

After Branson had sighed a number of times, kicked the wall and muttered under his breath something about "bloody stupid fool", Anna decided she had had enough. Wiping her eyes, she stepped out from behind the crates and spoke.

"Mr Branson? Are yer all right?" She sounded like she had a rather bad head cold, but apart from that she felt that she was hiding everything rather well.

Branson turned around so quickly he nearly fell over; it would have been comical if the situation hadn't been so unamusing.

"Fine," he answered briskly. "Never better."

There was silence for a minute.

"It still seems funny Thomas not being out here," he remarked.

"I suppose it's always odd when people leave." Anna thought of _him_ and gulped. "It seemed ever so strange only 'aving two o' the girls ter sort out tonight, not three."

Branson looked glum. Anna frowned at him.

"Might the reason yer out 'ere mopin' be somethin' ter do wi' Lady Sybil?" she enquired. She knew what the answer would be, but it gave her something to think about other than her heart breaking inside her.

Silence.

"Did yer drop 'er off all right this mornin'?" she probed.

Branson looked away. "Do you want a cigarette?"

She glared at him. "No, I do not! An' don't change the subject. Now please explain what's up wi' yer." She realised that she was using the same firm voice she employed on the other housemaids when they were slacking, but it seemed to be working.

He looked sheepish. "You won't tell anyone?"

Anna was fleetingly reminded of her brother making her promise not to be angry just before he revealed that he'd broken her bedroom window with a flower pot.

"Well I don't know if I should until you've told me, do I?" she retorted impatiently. "Now come on."

Burying his fists in his pockets, Branson glanced at her, then at the ground.

"I was at the hospital in York with Lady Sybil." He paused for a second. "She did tell me not to say it but I couldn't let her leave without knowing…" His voice trailed off.

Anna blinked at him.

"Told yer not ter say what? Yer – yer don't mean –"

Branson buried his head in his hands.

She gaped at him.

"What on earth did Lady Sybil say to that?" she demanded. "Not that I'm sure I want ter know."

He was silent for a moment, then raised his head. "She said she wouldn't tell his Lordship." He didn't need to say anything else.

Anna realised her mouth was still hanging open.

"An' what possessed yer to come out wi' all that?" she demanded, her own misery almost forgotten in her shock at what this stupid, _stupid_ man had said, what he'd risked.

"I just hoped…"

She didn't want to listen to the rest of his sentence. Not if she wanted to keep her composure and to forget about how very much _she_ had hoped.

"If she 'ad said yes, what were yer plannin' ter do next, may I ask?" She kept her voice as angry as possible to stop it wobbling. "Were yer goin' ter drive off together to Gretna Green there an' then, or just come back 'ere and tell 'is Lordship?"

"Of course not, that's ridiculous." Branson glared at her. "Anyway, it's none of your business."

"Why did yer do it?" She was almost shrieking now. "What made yer think it would possibly be worth it? Yer must know it could never 'appen."

"The war's changing things, Anna." Despite everything there was still optimism in his voice, just a little. "Once it's all over everything will be different. There won't be anything stopping us from being together."

_Nothing stopping us…_

Anna blinked and focused on the ground, trying to blot out the memories exploding in her head.

"_Forget me and be happy, please."_

That was enough. She burst into tears.

Branson looked quite terrified. He gingerly moved towards her and patted her on the shoulder as she sat sobbing.

"Is this about Mr Bates?" he asked cautiously.

She gave a smothered gasp. "'e'd proposed ter me an' everythin', an' w-we were goin' ter 'ave a cottage an' then – then maybe an 'otel an' I was goin' ter smack him but I d-didn't an'…" The rest of her sentence was lost in a sob.

Looking utterly bewildered, Branson carefully sat down on a crate next to her and placed his handkerchief in her hand.

Anna wasn't quite sure how long she sat there crying, Branson gently rubbing her back, trying to calm her down. She just knew that after a while she seemed to have almost run out of tears to cry.

She sniffed and scrubbed her face with his handkerchief.

"Can I 'ave one of yer cigarettes now?" she asked quietly. She would rather have had a cup of tea, but a cigarette would do.

Silently Branson lit one and handed it to her. Anna carefully took a drag, trying not to cough as the smoke filled her lungs. She didn't like it much but it gave her something to do other than cry.

They sat together side by side as the moon disappeared behind a cloud. She choked back a sob once or twice and he drummed his foot against the crate he was sitting on, but other than that they were silent.

It seemed melodramatic, Anna thought, to sit in the dark smoking and feel your heart breaking piece by piece.

But at least she knew she wasn't the only one with a broken heart. And that helped somehow.

* * *

><p><strong>Another disclaimer: Smoking kills, by the way. I don't encourage Anna and Tom's behaviour, even if they have just lost the loves of their lives.<strong>

**Please review – I'd love to know what you think!**


End file.
